You told me you want to learn to fly,

but every time you jump,

you only fall back down.

You told me you'd grow wings,

and fly up to the clouds.

But the wings never sprouted

and you didn't fly.

So you tied the black balloon around your wrist,

you told me you'd keep filling it up until you floated away.

You said you'd float just out of reach,

keep them all watching below you

as you laughed and went where the wind would take you.



So as you float away with your wrist held high,

tied to that black balloon,

the world below grows cold.

You float away from all the love you ever knew,

The balloon blocking out the sun,

leaving shadows across the ground,

swallowing the light.

You listened to all the lies that the grass would be greener,

but we know the truth,

as we watch you fly away.

You told us you'd find a better life
by floating away on your parade of black balloons.